


all my bases are belong to you

by jeyhawk



Series: all my bases are belong to you [1]
Category: Social Network (2010) RPF
Genre: M/M, Nipple Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-03
Updated: 2012-06-03
Packaged: 2017-11-06 18:14:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/421778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeyhawk/pseuds/jeyhawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>College AU.</i> Jesse and Andrew are roommates and best friends and sometimes (when Jesse's had more than three beers) they are more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Second Base

It's a normal Thursday morning. Jesse and Andrew are sitting at opposite sides of the kitchen table, Jesse with his laptop open in front of him and a pen twisting between his fingers, while Andrew nurses a cup of coffee and tries not to stare too obviously at Jesse's nipples. 

The bathroom door bangs open and moments later, Justin walks into the kitchen, trailing steam and the water he was too lazy to scrub out of his hair. 

"Morning, losers," he says, kicking the foot Andrew has propped up on one of the spare chairs on his way towards the fridge. 

"Morning," Jesse mumbles without looking up from the screen. Andrew takes another mouthful from his cup. 

Justin leans against the counter and chugs orange juice straight out of the cartoon. 

"You're coming to Bartha's party tonight, right?" he asks. 

"Yeah," Jesse says, frowning when something on the screen catches his attention. 

Andrew nods absently, watching Jesse's fingers dance over the keys, the pen temporarily forgotten on the table. 

"And are you going to do that embarrassing thing where you pine for each other all night and then end up making out fully clothed in someone's bedroom for two hours?" 

Andrew's face flushes hot, but Jesse just shrugs, as if this is a completely normal topic of conversation (and with Justin it is). 

"Probably not," he says. He sounds almost disappointed. "I have class tomorrow so I'm only having three beers." 

Justin frowns and looks to Andrew for clarification. Andrew just blushes silently into his cup. 

\--

Emma was the one that formulated the Jesse + beer equation; Andrew still has the paper she wrote it down on stuffed into of one of his desk drawers. Basically it looks like this:

Jesse + xBeer = y * x 

X is a number, usually 1-4 and y means cuddle. One beer won't bring on much of a change, maybe Jesse will hold himself a little less rigidly and give himself over to hugs a little more willingly, but that's about it. 

Two beers mean that Jesse will give himself fully to the cuddles, not trying to break out of them because he thinks he should, or because he's overcome by a sudden certainty that people hate him and think he's overbearing. Andrew can do a lot with two beers. 

Three beers mean that Jesse will initiate cuddles, worming himself in under someone's arm and leaning in to their personal space, or simply sliding down into someone's lap. Andrew likes three beers; he's spent many nights with Jesse perched on his lap in someone's messy living room discussing the relative merits of the Russian revolution or whatever else might have been covered in class that day. 

Four beers mean that Jesse will make out with Andrew, slick and slow with his arms wrapped around Andrew's neck and their chests pressed together through their shirts. Four means he won't stiffen when Andrew touches his back under his shirt, but rather tilt his head back and smile wide and easy. Andrew wishes Jesse would drink four beers every night and then feels like a really bad person for wishing alcoholism on his best friend. 

Andrew has never been around for Jesse drinking more than four beers, but sometimes he toys with the thought of interrupting their make out session to introduce a fifth beer into the mix. Then he feels like a bad person for having thoughts about coercing Jesse into having sex with him and reminds himself that if they're ever having sex it would be when they’re fully sober. 

Sometimes it's hard to keep that in mind though with Jesse rubbing up against him, breath coming out in gasped whimpers, and his hands on Jesse's narrow back. He's pretty sure Jesse lost his virginity to a five-beer night in between his freshman and junior year. Jesse never elaborated on the experience: he just told Andrew that it happened, eyes trained on the floor and hands moving in butterfly flutters at his sides. Thinking about it still makes Andrew's chest ache a little, so he tries to never let his thoughts stray in that direction. 

\--

Justin Bartha, or The Other Justin as roommate Justin likes to call him, is Jesse's friend. He’s the first friend Jesse made at college (aside from Andrew) and there's always this pride in his voice when he talks about Justin that Andrew thinks has less to do with Justin and more to do with the fact that Jesse made a friend. Andrew spent the first few weeks of knowing Justin hating him passionately before he realized that Justin had no designs on Jesse's virtue and Andrew started to like him. Andrew is fickle like that. 

Justin shares a house with two other guys, Joe and Mike, on the outskirts of campus and by the time Andrew walks in, the party is already in full swing. There are people everywhere and music is blaring from the laptop set up on a table. Andrew spots Jesse right away, his curly head bent close to Justin's as they talk about something – probably anthropology, if he knows Jesse right – and there's a beer clutched loosely in Jesse's hand. 

Jesse is wearing one of his stupid too tight t-shirts, the short sleeves hugging his slim pale arms and the cotton clinging obscenely to his chest. Even from across the room, Andrew can tell that his nipples are stiff, the tight hard peeks visible through the thin cotton of his shirt and for a moment, Andrew forgets how to breathe. It's a good thing he's taken to wearing the tightest underwear known to man, because he pops boners looking at Jesse seven times a day. Andrew is a horrible best friend. 

"Andrew," Jesse says, loose and happy, when Andrew makes it across the room. His head bumps against Andrew's stomach when he tilts it back and Andrew bites back a very embarrassing moan.   
Andrew's pretty sure he doesn't even have a beer-to-cuddle equation. If he has an equation, it looks like this:

Andrew + Jesse = yyyy (Beer?) 

Because Andrew is _that_ friend, the creepy one that always lurks in the background and pops boners looking at his best friend’s nipples. It would probably be slightly less embarrassing if not everyone knows that Andrew is that friend. Just last week, Andrew overheard a couple of freshmen he's never met in his entire life discussing his crush on Jesse. He's like a creepy British school legend. 

"Andrew," Justin says and they exchange polite nods. 

Justin looks amused, but that seems to be his standard look whenever Andrew is around. Jesse gets up from the chair and pushes Andrew down to sit. Then he straddles Andrew's lap, ass pushed up against Andrew's stomach, and leans his elbows against the table. He has to be able to feel that Andrew's hard, there's just no way he can miss it with Andrew's cock pretty much hugged between his ass cheeks, but he doesn't comment or shift away, he just dives straight back into his conversation with Justin. 

Justin slides a beer across the table, towards where Andrew has a white knuckled grip on the table and Andrew grabs it thankfully, busying himself with gulping it down in one long continuous pull. Then he burps into the crook of his elbow and drinks the second beer Justin offers him at a more sedate pace. 

He tries to keep up with Justin's and Jesse's conversation, but linguistic anthropology is not his strong suit and it's really hard to think with the way Jesse occasionally shifts against him. He's thankfully distracted for a while by Emma pulling up a chair to discuss their latest assignment, but she's soon pulled away to the kitchen for a serious girl talk with her roommate and Andrew is left to contemplate the state of his life with his forehead pressed into Jesse's back. 

"What time is it?" Jesse asks suddenly, twisting around to look at Andrew over his shoulder. 

"Uh… eleven?" 

"I could have another beer then," Jesse says thoughtfully. He catches Andrew's eyes. "Do you think I should have another beer, Andrew?" 

Andrew flushes down to his collarbones and bites helplessly at his lower lip. A good friend would say no, a good friend wouldn't already be picturing Jesse's mouth against his, a good friend wouldn't continuously take advantage of his tipsy best friend. Across the table Justin's laughing at them, Andrew's pretty sure. 

"If you want to," Andrew says weakly, staring into Jesse's gorgeous blue eyes. "I… uh… I'm always in favor of… uhm... four beers."

Jesse smiles, one of his real smiles, the one that punches dimples into his cheeks and makes Andrew's chest feel too tight. 

"Okay," he says. 

\--

They end up in the second floor bathroom because it was the only unoccupied room with a door that locked. Jesse with his back against the door, mouth open against Andrew's and Andrew pressed up all along his front, one leg slid in between Jesse's narrow thighs. 

"This is okay, right?" Andrew murmurs, sliding his lips against Jesse's cheekbone. "I'm not taking advantage." 

"Yeah," Jesse breathes, letting his head thump back against the door. "This is good." 

Andrew pulls back slightly too look at Jesse's half lidded eyes and kiss-swollen lips. He groans, spanning his fingers across the small of Jesse's back. 

"Can I…" 

He looks down to where Jesse's tiny nipples are straining against his shirt. He lifts one of his hands to curl around Jesse's ribcage on top of his t-shirt, thumb just inches from his nipple. 

"Second base," Jesse says, but he's smiling, lower lip caught between his teeth. 

"I can't stop looking at… I just…" Andrew cuts himself off, flushing bright red. 

Jesse curls his hand loosely around Andrew's wrist, rubbing his fingers over Andrew's pulse point. 

"They're really sensitive," he says, ducking forward to bury his head into Andrew's neck. "It's…" 

His breath hitches and he pulls Andrew's palm up to rest over the slight swell of his pec, the nipple a hard point against Andrew's sweaty palm. 

"Oh," he gasps, his free hand fisting into the back of Andrew's shirt. "That's…"

Andrew's heart bangs against his ribcage and he's so hard he feels faint with it. He moves his hand slightly, Jesse's fingers tightening on his wrist, until he can rub the pad of his thumb over the tight peak of Jesse's nipple. 

Jesse groans, hips shuddering against Andrew's thigh and he bangs his head back against the door. 

"Jesus," Andrew breathes, pressing a sloppy kiss to the corner of Jesse's open mouth. "Do you… do want me to stop?"

He rubs his thumb in a slow circle around the areola, pulling a breathless moan from Jesse's lips. 

"No," Jesse breathes, chest heaving under Andrew's palm. "Keep… keep… oh… going." 

Andrew brings his other hand up to touch Jesse's other nipple, keeping up the same soft-slow rubbing motion with both of his thumbs. He wonders if Jesse can feel his fingers trembling against his ribs. 

Jesse lets go of Andrew's wrist in favor of fisting a hand into his hair, pulling him down for a messy breathless kiss. His hips are pulsing against Andrew's thigh in short helpless jerks, his breath coming out quick and ragged, and he moans, long and loud, when Andrew pinches his nipple lightly. 

"Fuck," Andrew gasps, pressing his hips against Jesse's thigh to relieve the ache. "Are you… is this okay?" 

They never went beyond fully clothed kissing before and this is… this is already the hottest sex Andrew has ever had in his life and he had sex in public once. 

"Fuck yeah," Jesse groans, tightening his fingers in Andrew's hair. "Just… oh god…"

He trails off on another moan when Andrew pinches both his nipples at the same time, rubbing the tight peaks between his shaking fingers. 

"Fuck, Jesse," Andrew murmurs, panting against Jesse's flushed cheek. "I want to… can I… I want to taste…"

Jesse shudders all over and pulls impatiently on Andrew's hair. Andrew takes that for permission, bending down awkwardly to kiss Jesse's nipple through his shirt, rubbing his slick lips over the hard nub. 

"Oh… oh…" 

Jesse's fingers tightens almost painfully in Andrew's hair, pulling him in and Andrew opens his mouth rubbing his tongue over the fuzzy cotton of Jesse's shirt until it sticks to his chest with slickness. 

"Oh fuck."

Jesse's pushing his hips up, trying to rub harder against Andrew's thigh, but the awkward angle Andrew bent himself into makes it impossible. Andrew pulls Jesse's nipple into his mouth, sucking it through his shirt while he rolls the other between his fingers. 

"Andrew," Jesse groans hoarsely. "I'm going to… fuck…"

"Yeah, baby, come on," Andrew murmurs, mouth open against Jesse's chest. He wraps his free hand around Jesse's back, pulling him in. 

"Oh, oh, oh… Andrew, I'm… oh…"

Andrew lifts his head, snapping his hips up against Jesse's just in time to watch him come. Jesse's eyes glaze over and his mouth falls open, letting out a soft keening whimper, fingers pulling hard on Andrew's hair. He shudders all over, hips pressed up against Andrew's and whimpers helplessly when Andrew thumbs at his nipple. 

Andrew pulls his hand back when the whimpers edge towards uncomfortable and presses soft kisses to Jesse's gasping mouth. 

"So gorgeous," he croaks. "Jess, you're so beautiful." 

He knows the spell is broken when Jesse makes a self-deprecating sound at the back of his throat and pulls away from Andrew's hands. 

"You are," Andrew says stubbornly. 

He's so hard, he's throbbing with it, wet in his boxer briefs, but he doesn't know if it's okay to reach down and readjust himself, watching Jesse's face warily. Jesse blinks his eyes open, pupils still blown wide, and pulls Andrew closer. 

"Kiss me," he mumbles and Andrew can hear the embarrassment there. 

Andrew bends down, kissing him slow and soft, hips shifting unconsciously against Jesse's bony hip. 

"Yeah, come on," Jesse murmurs. "Rub off on me." 

Andrew stiffens, lifting his head. Jesse meets his gaze straight on, cheeks stained a deep crimson. 

"I want you to," he whispers, worrying at his slick lower lips. "That's… uhm… that's okay, right?" 

"Oh God," Andrew groans. "You have no idea how okay that is."

Jesse manages a weak chuckle, pressing his fingers into the small of Andrew's back. Andrew kisses him again, rubbing up against him with intent, and it takes about five seconds for him to come so hard he literally sees stars, hips stuttering against Jesse's hip. 

Jesse moans weakly with him, running his hands over Andrew's arched back and it's quite possibly the best thing that ever happened to Andrew. 

\--

The aftermath is somewhat anticlimactic, the two of them furtively cleaning up and then sneaking out through the backdoor before someone can accost them. They walk back to their apartment building mostly in silence and once they're inside Jesse kisses Andrew's cheek, murmuring, "good night," before disappearing into his room. 

Andrew doesn't really know what to make of that.


	2. Third Base

They don't talk about what happened at Justin's party. Andrew tries to bring it up, but it's surprisingly hard to work "do you remember that time I made you come by sucking your nipples through your shirt?" into polite conversation. They are still best friends and hang out all the time, but they don't talk about it and Jesse never drinks more than two beers. 

Andrew can't shake the feeling that he took advantage of Jesse somehow, that he crossed some invisible line, because it's been three weeks and that's the longest they've gone without making out since this whole thing started. 

\--

"Just ask him out, for fuck’s sake," Emma says, slapping Andrew over the back of the head when he asks her and Andrew would if he wasn't so terrified that Jesse would say no. 

Kissing your roommate/best friend when drunk is one thing, going out with him is another thing altogether and while Andrew thinks this is the best idea there ever was, he has a feeling that Jesse doesn't agree, and not only because Jesse once showed him his "why I shouldn't date in college" mind map. (Vodka does strange things to Jesse and there's never any making out.)

Jesse isn't like Andrew. Jesse doesn't take the day as it comes and hopes for the best; he makes plans and sticks to them, and he worries about all the possible outcomes of any given decision. Andrew is neurotic too, excessively so, but compared to Jesse he's a modicum of calm rationality. 

\--

It's Justin, as always, that finally breaks the status quo. 

"We're having a party tonight," he informs them over breakfast, leaning over to steal Andrew's toast. "And you're having more than three beers," he adds, waving the toast in Jesse's face. "I can't take all this tension." 

Jesse blushes into his coffee and Andrew wants to drown in his, but of course they go along with Justin's plans because it's impossible to say no to him. 

"I remember the first two weeks I lived here," Jesse says when Justin's walked out. "When I thought Justin was a figment of your imagination… I miss those days." 

Andrew laughs, smiling his hopeless infatuation into his coffee. Sometimes he misses those days too – when hanging out was easy, when caring for Jesse didn't make him feel like a creep, when he sometimes heard Jesse moan at night and it didn't make him want to break down the wall between their rooms. 

"Besides, he's wrong anyway," Jesse says, fingers drumming a silent melody against the table. "We're not tense."

"Of course not," Andrew lies, clutching at his cup so hard he's afraid it might break. 

Jesse picks up his discarded book and leaves through it until he finds his bookmark. It's a postcard from London that Andrew sent him the last time he went home. 

"I'm still going to have four beers," Jesse says without looking up. 

"Thank God," Andrew breathes and he's pretty sure Jesse's hiding a smile into his book. 

\--

"When I become famous, I'm going to make a movie out of your ridiculous love story," Emma says that night. "Like Brokeback Mountain but without the heartache."

She and Andrew are sitting on the fire escape, watching the party unfold in the living room like a particularly horrific reality show. Andrew's nursing a drink, something sweet and pink, while Emma occasionally takes a mouthful of whiskey straight from the bottle. 

"Want some?" she asks, holding the bottle up. 

Andrew shakes his head, taking another sip from his drink. Jesse's on the couch, trying to explain something to a pretty girl that involves a lot of gestures. Andrew has no idea who the girl is and he's pretty sure Jesse doesn't either, but she seems mesmerized by whatever it is he's saying. 

Every now and then, Jesse looks up and catches Andrew's eyes, lifting his beer in a salute. It's his fourth one, not that Andrew's been counting or anything, and he's pretty sure Jesse isn't planning on making out with the girl. Andrew still hates her a little; it's a matter of principle. 

Emma sighs, leaning her head back against the railing. "I'm so happy I have you two in my life," she says. "You're a constant source of entertainment." 

She's been saying that since junior year when Andrew looked at Jesse across the room at some lame party and realized he was in love. He might have been well into his cups at the time, but the sentiment stuck and almost a year later, it's no less true. 

Inside, Jesse puts down his empty bottle and smiles blandly at something the girl says but instead of catching Andrew's eye across the room, he accepts a fifth beer from Joe who happens to be passing by. Andrew sits up straight, making the fire escape creak in protest. 

"He's having a fifth beer," he says. "He's…. Emma, he's drinking _more_." 

Emma laughs. "I hardly think a fifth beer will make a difference," she says. "I remember the party where he drank two thirds of a bottle of tequila and he was still standing at the end of it." 

"What if five beers mean that he hates me?" Andrew asks. "Then what?"

Emma gives him a look, it's very condescending. "I am one hundred percent certain that Jesse Eisenberg is incapable of hating you," she says. "He's quite obviously head over heels for your British hipster self. God knows why."

"He never drinks five beers," Andrew mutters, carefully putting his drink down and pretending that Emma's statement doesn't make his stomach flutter. 

The thing about Jesse is that he doesn't get drunk like other people (Andrew). He doesn't get clingy, or rambly or handsy. He gets quiet and thoughtful, weighing his words very carefully, and even after two thirds of a bottle of tequila he can still walk in an almost straight, albeit very slow, line. It's like he doesn't _let_ himself be drunk, unable to relax into it. 

Now, he laughs at something the girl says and pushes himself up from the couch. He's still holding that fifth bottle loosely in his hand as he makes his way towards the half stairs that leads to the back of the apartment. He pauses at the very edge, looking straight at Andrew for a moment, and then he's gone. 

"Go," Emma hisses, elbowing him in the side. 

"Maybe it wasn't…"

" _Go._ " 

\--

Andrew finds Jesse in his room, sitting on the bed with his legs sprawled wide. He smiles when Andrew walks in. 

"Hey," he says. 

"Hey," Andrew replies nervously, staying just inside the door. 

"Lock the door," Jesse says. 

Andrew gulps, but does as he's told. They've made it out in bedrooms before but never on a bed and never in Jesse's room; it feels like crossing a line. Not that they're making out. Yet. 

\--

Five minutes later they are making out, lying on their sides on Jesse's bed, one of Jesse's legs hooked over Andrew's hips and it's so good, so intimate, that Andrew can barely hold himself back. He wants to roll on top of Jesse, wants to push him into the bed, and rub their dicks together until they both come. He just wants, so damn much he's breathless with it. 

"I think about you all the time," Jesse whispers, digging his fingers into Andrew's shoulder blades. "All the fucking time. In the shower when I… I think about you." 

"Oh God," Andrew breathes, pulling Jesse into another kiss. "Me too, Jess. Me too." 

It's embarrassing to think about how many times he's jerked off thinking about Jesse. Hundreds, maybe thousands. 

"I think about your mouth," Jesse murmurs, pulling back to look at Andrew in the dim light falling in through the half-closed blinds. "And all the things I wish I was brave enough to do to it." 

"Anything," Andrew says. "You can have anything." 

Jesse rubs his thumb over Andrew's lower lip, slick with spit, and Andrew lets out a harsh breath. Jesse squeezes his eyes shut, cheeks flushing dark. 

"I think about you blowing me," he mumbles, almost too softly to be heard. 

"I can… I want to… Please, Jess, let me…" 

Jesse's eyes opens and they hold each other's gaze for a moment. Jesse's eyes are dark, pupils blown, and he worries at his lower lip. Andrew leans forward, sucking it into his mouth and rubbing his tongue over the offended spot. 

"Fuck, Jess," he moans when they pull apart. "I just want you so fucking much. All the time." 

That seems to be the key, because Jesse nods almost imperceptibly and rolls over on his back. 

"You can do anything to me," he says. 

Andrew makes him sit up against the pillow, pulling his shirt off along the way. "I want you to watch," he murmurs, catching Jesse's lips in another kiss. "I want you to see what you do to me." 

Jesse groans weakly, pulling at the hem of Andrew's shirt. Andrew obliges him, pulling the shirt off, before he starts working on Jesse's jeans, pulling them down his legs. Jesse bites down on his lower lip again when Andrew moves to kneel between his legs and pushes up to kiss him. 

"Are you sure?" he asks. "I don’t want to…"

"Yeah," Jesse murmurs. "I want…"

Jesse's pale in the silvery light, almost white, but there's a flush spreading down his flat chest and the narrow trail of dusty hair leading in to his boxers. Andrew rakes his hands up Jesse's sides to span his ribcage, watching Jesse's face as he thumbs at his nipples. 

"Oh," Jesse gasps, shifting his hips against the bed. "Yeah…"

"So gorgeous," Andrew breathes, kissing a line down Jesse's throat. "Jesse… Jess, you're so…"

His mouth finds one of Jesse's pebbled nipples and rubs the flat of his tongue over it, moving his hands to span Jesse's narrows hips. Jesse moans deeply, hips twitching against Andrew's palms and Andrew does it again and again, sucking the tight nub into his mouth. 

Jesse digs his fingers into Andrew's hair, pressing against his scalp. "Fuck," he gasps. "Jesus." 

Andrew moves to give the other nipple the same attention, rubbing his thumbs over Jesse's quivering stomach. Jesse makes the hottest noises known to man, gasps and breathy whimpers that go straight to Andrew's dick. He can still hear the party over the roar in his ears and he's suddenly jealous of anyone that might walk by and hear Jesse like this, because they don't have the right. 

"Jesse, baby," he murmurs, shifting up to kiss Jesse's parted lips again, licking lazily into his mouth. "You have to try to keep it down."

He can feel Jesse's face flushing hot against his. 

"I love your noises," he whispers. "God, they're so fucking hot, but there's… the party." 

"Okay," Jesse mumbles. "I'll try." 

Andrew starts kissing his way down Jesse's body again and Jesse throws one of his arms over his head, muffling his moans into the crook of his elbow. Jesse's stomach quivers under Andrew's mouth, muscles contracting, and he dips his tongue into Jesse's belly button, pulling another muffled groan from his lips. 

Andrew never imagined that Jesse would be this responsive in bed, this loud, and it's such a turn on. Andrew always appreciated vocal partners and this is _Jesse_ , who Andrew loves so stupidly his heart can't even deal. 

"You're so perfect," he whispers into Jesse's skin. "So beautiful."

He moves lower, mouthing at Jesse's straining erection through his boxers, breathing in deep. It's hard to tell who moans the loudest. Then he's easing Jesse's boxers down to bunch around his thighs and Jesse's cock springs out, curling hard and flushed against his stomach. The head is wet with pre-come, slippery and shining, and Andrew makes a sound deep in his throat. 

The thing is Andrew loves sucking cock and Jesse's… Jesse's is perfect. The length, the girth, the slight curve to the left, everything about it is _perfect_ and Andrew's mouth waters with anticipation. 

"I'm not gonna…" Jesse croaks. "I'm not gonna last long." 

"That's okay," Andrew breathes, licking a stripe up the underside. 

Jesse's cock jerks against his tongue and he makes a sound as if he's dying as Andrew slides his lips over the head, sucking hard. Andrew presses his hands into Jesse's trembling hips, lifting his eyes to Jesse's face as slides his mouth down. 

"Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god," Jesse chants, digging his nails into Andrew's scalp. "I'm gonna… Andrew, I'm…"

Jesse tries to pull him off, tries to shift away, but Andrew loves the weight of him against his tongue, loves the way he can feel Jesse's cock jerk and swell, pre-come flooding his mouth. He keeps on sucking, long luxurious pulls with his cheeks hollowed and his lashes fluttering. He braces one hand over Jesse's abdomen and unceremoniously shoves the other one into his jeans. 

"Oh, oh, oh, Andrew, I'm…" 

Jesse moans rises in pitch, hips jerking and cock leaking and Andrew swallows around him. Jesse comes with a soundless scream, back arching and fingers pulling hard on Andrew's hair. Andrew swallows the first few pulses but then he pulls off, jerking Jesse through the rest to be able to watch his face. 

"Holy fuck," Jesse breathes, collapsing back against the bed. 

He tugs on Andrew's hair and Andrew reluctantly pulls his hands out of his way too tight pants to crawl up Jesse's body. He's panting hard, lips stinging, and he's so fucking hard he can't see straight. Jesse stares at his mouth for a moment and then they're kissing, sharing Jesse's musky taste between their mouths in a way Andrew never imagined Jesse would allow. 

Jesse's fingers fumble desperately with his fly, pushing his jeans and boxer brief down impatiently and then Jesse's hand is closing around Andrew's dick and he comes all over Jesse's stomach, groaning into his neck before Jesse's even managed to figure out the grip. Andrew's toes curl with the force of his orgasm and he gasps wetly into Jesse's skin. 

Jesse laughs, a little nervous maybe, and Andrew lifts his head to kiss him softly. 

"You okay?" he asks, mouthing at Jesse's chin and kissing his cheek. "I didn't… uh… use you." 

Jesse laughs again turning his head into Andrew's and kissing his mouth. "You are neurotic about the weirdest things," he says. 

Andrew thinks that's pretty rich, but he smiles into Jesse's mouth, licking at his tongue. Somewhere the party is still going on, muffled music coming from the living room. But in Jesse's room everything is quiet and tender and easy, the two of them trading kisses and gentle touches, cleaning off with napkins from Jesse's nightstand, and then kissing again until Andrew drifts off to sleep with one leg between Jesse's and his fingers tangled in Jesse's curls.


	3. strike out to third base again

Andrew's day starts bad: he wakes up alone in Jesse's bed to a note that says " _I'm at the library but last night was amazing and stuff_." It gets progressively worse from there. The living room is a mess – well, not that much of a mess; Jesse probably picked up a little before he left – and someone's passed out on the couch. 

There are empty bottles in bags all over the kitchen and someone ate all of Andrew's toast. The only person who's allowed to eat Andrew's bread is Jesse (he can eat all of Andrew's bread) but Jesse would never take the last piece so Andrew knows someone else is to blame. So before Andrew can even have breakfast, he has to deal with the trash and run down to the corner shop and his life officially sucks. 

After breakfast, he tries to read for a while but his eyes keep crossing and his heart jumps into his throat every time someone makes a noise, but it's never Jesse coming back from the library because apparently he's intent on making Andrew suffer. 

Then Andrew has to go to class and he's late and his head aches and his professor keeps asking him stupid questions that Andrew knows the answers to but he just doesn't want to. After class, he runs into the other Justin who is apparently having some moving related emergency and he somehow ends up spending most of the afternoon carrying boxes for other Justin's maybe-girlfriend. It can be argued that Andrew has to work on his no-saying skills. 

He finally drags himself back to the apartment after eight to find Jesse and Emma watching some stupid movie on the couch and looking two-bottles-of-beer cuddly. Jesse blushes when he sees Andrew and makes some lame excuse, disappearing to his room and Andrew's left with his headache and Emma's vague pity. 

"I hate today," Andrew moans, hiding his face into the couch cushions that are still warm from Jesse's skin. 

"He'll come around," Emma says, patting Andrew's ankles. 

Andrew closes his eyes and thinks about falling asleep tangled in Jesse and how it was the best thing _ever_. 

\--

Before he goes to bed Andrew knocks on Jesse's door, but Jesse doesn't open and Andrew goes to bed with his heart flopping around his feet. It doesn't help that things are back to "normal" the next day, the kind of normal where they hang out and laugh and have fun but don't talk about the elephant in the room, because Andrew can't forget what it felt like to kiss Jesse until he fell asleep and he wants to have that more than anything in the world. (Yes, more than world peace, even if that makes him a horrible person.)

\--

Andrew's cousin is getting married and apparently, it's absolutely vital that he attend. (To the point where his mom says there won't be a wedding without him – which he doubts – but he does love Alison and maybe it's worth two transatlantic flights in four days to see her get hitched.) Justin, being… well Justin, decides to throw him a farewell party. 

It's been two weeks since the party in their living room, which means it's been two weeks since Andrew got to snuggle Jesse properly (and sexually) so he doesn't even try to protest. He just vetoes the idea of having the party at their place because he doesn't want to step over passed-out drunk people to get to the airport in time. 

In the end, they head to their neighborhood bar which is a rundown kind of dingy place with worn vinyl boots and a jukebox that plays all the worst hits of the nineties. Andrew, Justin, Jesse, Emma, other Justin, Joe, Carey and a bunch of other friends and acquaintances all pile around one of the larger tables. It's nice, relaxed; they drink cheap beer out of huge glasses and eat the greasy fried bar food, just generally having a good time. 

Andrew sits next to Jesse, their knees pressed together under the table and after his third beer, Jesse snuggles himself in under Andrew's arm and stays there, warm and pliant against his side. Justin buys another round, beers magically appearing in front of everyone and he sings along to the best of the 90s like he was born to do it. 

Jesse doesn't touch his new beer – his fourth – but he stays against Andrew's side, painting nonsense squiggles with a fingertip against Andrew's thigh that Andrew is pretty sure spells BONER in big bold letters. Emma starts making noises about heading to a club and she soon has most of the table itching to go. Jesse doesn't say anything but he picks up his last beer, drinking half of it in one go before putting it down against the table top with a muted thump. 

"You coming, Andrew?" Emma asks, pulling a cardigan over her top and shaking out her hair. 

Andrew glances down at Jesse and shakes his head. "Early flight tomorrow," he says. "And my mom would have my head if I missed it." 

"Yeah, right," Justin says, laughing so hard he almost topples off the chair. "I'm thinking you're more interested in getting head right now." 

"Oh, hush," Carey says, flicking his ear. "We're supposed to pretend we don't know anything, remember?" 

"Know anything about what?" Joe asks. 

Andrew blushes but he tightens his fingers around Jesse's shoulder, keeping him close. Not that Jesse seems particularly interested in going somewhere, one hand warm against Andrew's thigh and the other stealing leftover fries from Andrew's plate. 

"So are you coming, Jesse?" Joe asks because obviously, the fact that Jesse is halfway on Andrew's lap doesn't clue him in on anything. 

Jesse looks up and hums low in his throat. "No," he says. "I'm going to finish my fourth beer and then I'm going to take Andrew home and give him a farewell blowjob." 

Joe pauses with his beer halfway to his mouth, staring at Jesse's completely blank face. Andrew blushes so hard his face might spontaneously catch fire, and he sees Emma and Justin trying to hide their laughter into Emma's bag. 

"Is that… are you…" Joe frowns, looking from Andrew's impressive blush to Jesse's deadpan and back. "Huh?"

Jesse shrugs. "I'm four-beer-queer for Andrew," he says easily, squeezing Andrew's thigh. "It's a thing." 

Joe frowns, looking at Andrew again. "And what about you?" 

"Me?" Andrew asks, making his lips pull into a smile. "I'm pretty much gay all the time." 

Everyone cracks up at that, including Jesse who buries his laughter into Andrew's shoulder and Andrew finds that it’s a little easier to breathe. He reminds himself forcefully, that even if Jesse only wants him when he's drunk, he's still Jesse best friend and no one can make Jesse laugh like Andrew does. 

\--

It's odd for about five seconds when they get back to their empty apartment. Then Jesse pushes Andrew up against the front door and kisses him hard and it's not odd at all. 

They end up in Andrew's bed this time, with Andrew on his back and Jesse braced above him. Andrew curls his hands around Jesse's hips and Jesse sucks hickeys into his neck and everything is perfect. 

"I never imagined you'd be like this in bed," Andrew says when Jesse sits back on his haunches to pull his t-shirt off, dropping it carelessly on the floor beside the bed. 

Jesse pauses, tilting his head to the side. "What did you think I'd be like?" 

"I don't know," Andrew mutters, embarrassed all of a sudden. "Shy, maybe?"

He rubs his thumbs against the soft skin just above Jesse's waistband, watching his stomach flutter and contract. 

"But it's _you_ ," Jesse says, as if that explains anything.

\--

"I'm probably not good at this," Jesse says, with his elbows braced on Andrew's stomach and Andrew's cock painting lines against his chest. 

Andrew chuckles weakly with the sheer incredulity of that statement. "Uhm…" he slides a hand through Jesse's curls, making them stand out oddly on one side, "I'm about to come from the mere thought of your mouth on my dick so…" 

Jesse smiles, pressing a kiss against Andrew's quivering stomach then he's moving downward, kissing Andrew's hip and his thigh until he's kneeling between Andrew's legs with his mouth poised above the flushed head of Andrew's cock. 

Andrew fists his hands into the sheets, bracing himself for the first touch of Jesse's lips. Jesse smiles up at him, eyes so dark they're almost black, before dipping his tongue out to lick delicately over the head. 

"Holy shit," Andrew groans, trying to keep his hips from slamming up against Jesse's face. 

Jesse chuckles and wraps one long-fingered hand around the base before bending forward again, letting the head slip into his mouth. It's almost too much – Jesse’s gorgeous mouth stretched around his cock, the look of utter concentration on his face, the feel of his clever tongue flicking across the head. 

"Jesus," Andrew moans, twisting his back against the mattress and bunching the sheets into his hands. "Jesse, you're…" 

It's not the most skilful blowjob Andrew has ever received – it's sloppy and uncoordinated with the occasional scrape of teeth, but it's definitely the most enthusiastic and so damn good Andrew's toes starts curling before he's even halfway to the finish line. Jesse keeps making these noises around his cock, breathless needy little gasps through his nose that reverberates along Andrew's nerve endings and sets his blood on fire. 

He doesn't even realize he has squeezed his eyes shut until he pries them open, lifting his head to just look. Jesse’s got his eyes closed, eyelashes fluttering as he bobs his head slowly as if he's trying to savor the experience and making a helpless noise every time his reddened mouth meets his fist. Pleasure coils, white-hot and razor-sharp, at the base of Andrew's spine and a string of nonsense curses escape him, his hips arching off the bed. 

Jesse opens his eyes and the moment their gazes lock, Andrew's gone, coming so hard it feels as if his bones will shatter. Jesse makes a startled noise, pulling off, and Andrew manages to work an apology into his embarrassingly loud moans. He forces his eyes open again to find Jesse blinking owlishly at him with come smeared across his lips and cheek. 

"I'm so sorry," Andrew mumbles, groping around the nightstand with a heavy hand. "Come here."

Jesse obediently crawls on top of him, letting Andrew wipe the come off his face with a tissue. He looks a bit green and Andrew holds a clean napkin to his lips. 

"Spit," he says. 

Jesse does, blushing to the tips of his ears, and Andrew curls his free hand around Jesse's neck, pulling him in for a soft kiss. 

"I should have warned you," he murmurs. "I'm so sorry." 

"'S okay," Jesse whispers, licking at the corner of Andrew's mouth. "But… uhm… I think you're kind of an acquired taste." 

Andrew laughs and kisses him again, properly this time, licking his taste from Jesse's tongue. Andrew's limbs are heavy with lethargy, nerve endings still buzzing from his orgasm, but he gently pushes Jesse over on his back and lifts his head to look down at him. 

"What do you want?" he murmurs, bending down to press a kiss to the corner of Jesse's reddened mouth. "Anything… you can have anything."

Jesse turns his head against the pillows to kiss him properly and Andrew trails a hand down his chest, flicking his thumb over a pebbled nipple. Jesse shudders into his skin, helpless noise gasped in between their mouths, and Andrew's heart swells about ten sizes. 

"Do you want my mouth, baby?" Andrew asks, low and filthy. "Do you want me to suck you?"

Jesse makes another helpless noise, twisting against the sheets, and he grabs the hand Andrew has on his chest, pulling it up to his face. 

"I want…" He licks at the tips of Andrew's fingers, panting into his palm. "I want you to…"

Jesse squeezes his eyes shut, flushing pink down to his belly button, and Andrew forgets how to breathe for a second. He pulls his hand from Jesse's gentle grip, trailing it over his stomach and in between his legs. Jesse spreads them willingly, flushing even harder. 

"Oh," Andrew breathes and his spent cock twitches hopelessly. "Do you want my fingers? Is that it?" 

"Yeah," Jesse moans, opening his eyes to look straight at Andrew. "God, your hands… I can't stop… thinking about them." 

Andrew rubs his fingertips against the coarse denim of Jesse's jeans, making him groan and arch up, hips pushing against nothing. 

"Okay… yeah," he whispers, pressing his lips to Jesse's in a sloppy kiss. "Get naked and I'll get the… uhm… lube."

Jesse's hands are scrabbling at his fly before Andrew's even rolled over and when Andrew's done rummaging through the nightstand, he's fully naked and spread out over the bed. 

"Fuck," Andrew mumbles, biting down on his lower lip. 

Jesse looks debauched, lips swollen and red, chest flushed and cock leaking against his stomach. He's so fucking beautiful, Andrew's heart trips all over itself. Jesse rolls his head against the pillows, smiling, and Andrew can't even begin to formulate how much he wants him. 

Jesse with his silly curls and nervous tics, Jesse with his infectious smile and deadpan humor, Jesse spread out and naked on his bed, Jesse laughing at him in the morning – Jesse, just Jesse, all the damn time. 

"Come on," Jesse grumbles, reaching out to pull Andrew closer. "You can stare later." 

Andrew laughs, helpless and infatuated, then shifts to lie next to Jesse, pressing his mouth against his cheek. 

"I like looking at you," he says. 

"It's only one of the many reasons I worry about your brain," Jesse retorts. 

"Liar," Andrew murmurs, trailing his fingers down Jesse's chest. "You love my brain." 

"Yeah," Jesse mumbles, breath hitching when Andrew runs his fingers through his pubes. "I really, really do." 

Andrew takes his time, pouring lube all over his fingers and watching it trickle and smear over Jesse's thighs before he slides his fingers down below Jesse's tight balls, rubbing them slowly over his opening. He realizes his fingers are trembling and he watches Jesse's face for any sign of discomfort. Jesse’s got his eyes closed, lashes fluttering against his cheeks, and his lower lip is stuck between his teeth. 

"Is this… have you ever done this before?" Andrew asks, voice choked. 

"Only…" Jesse's breath hitches when Andrew presses hard, testing the resistance with one teasing fingertip. "Only to myself." 

Andrew groans weakly, pressing his lips against Jesse's cheek, his ear, his gorgeous ridiculous mouth. Jesse shifts, opening his legs wider, and moans softly into Andrew's mouth. 

"Come on," he whispers. 

Andrew chuckles and slowly pushes one finger into Jesse, pausing at the first knuckle then at the second, watching the way Jesse's stomach flutters. He starts out slow, not to tease but to let Jesse get used to the sensation of having someone else touching him like this. A blush stains Jesse's cheeks and he still has his eyes closed, but there's the curl of a smile on his lips and he keeps shifting into Andrew's touch. 

"You okay?" Andrew murmurs, pressing kisses everywhere he can reach. 

"Feels good," Jesse slurs, turning his face into Andrew's. "You feel good." 

Andrew kisses him, pulling his finger out to push back with two, even slower this time, giving Jesse time to adjust. 

"Not gonna break," Jesse mumbles. "Just… mmm…" 

Jesse's hot and silky-soft on the inside, clinging to Andrew's fingers, breathy moans escaping from his lips every time Andrew pushes his fingers in past the second knuckle. His hands are fluttering against the sheets, clutching at the soft cotton and he rocks back into the gentle thrusts, stomach clenching and unclenching with the sinuous slither of his hips. 

Andrew thinks about Jesse doing this to himself, thinks about Jesse twisted up on the bed, fingers buried inside of himself and one hand on his cock. It makes his mouth water. He presses a kiss against Jesse's shoulder, deliberately crooking his fingers against Jesse's prostate and Jesse arches up with a garbled desperate moan. 

"Yes," he breathes. "Yes, Andrew… there. Please, _there_." 

"Yeah, I got you," Andrew mumbles. "I got you, Jess." 

He kisses Jesse's sweaty temple, looking down towards where his fingers are moving between Jesse's spread legs, faster now in time with the rapid thump of his pulse. 

"Can you… do you want three?" he asks. 

"Oh… yeah." Jesse pants harshly, twisting his head against the pillows. "Please." 

Andrew pulls his fingers out slowly, breath hitching when they catch at the rim. Jesse lets out a small protest, reaching down to curl his hand around Andrew's forearm. 

"Don't…" 

"I'm just gonna add more lube," Andrew says hoarsely, fingers fumbling as he pours lube all over his hand. 

Jesse makes a noise when Andrew's wrist rubs over his cock, hips twitching. 

"Fuck, I'm so close," he croaks, shamelessly rubbing up against Andrew's arm. 

"I'll get you there," Andrew promises, stupid with emotion. 

Andrew drops the bottle on the sheets and slides his fingers, three now, right back inside. He doesn't hesitate, thrusting sure and hard, brushing his fingertips on that spot over and over again. Jesse makes an unholy amount of noise, babbling nonsense in between his high pitched moans. His cock twitches against his stomach, leaking freely and he works himself back on Andrew's fingers with his lower lip caught between his teeth. 

"Can you come like this?" Andrew asks, pressing kisses all over his face. "Just from my fingers?" 

Jesse pants harshly, breath hot against Andrew's skin. "Yeah," he gasps. "Oh… just… yeah." 

He's pulling at the sheets now, making them bunch under Andrew's hip and he whimpers with every breath, twisting back and forth; it's the hottest fucking thing Andrew ever saw. 

"Oh," Jesse breathes. "Oh… I'm… Andrew… please… Andrew…"

Andrew bends down, clamping his lips around one of Jesse's stiff nipples and just like that Jesse's coming, body bearing down on Andrew's fingers while his cock jerks, striping his stomach with thick white lines. Jesse lifts a fumbling hand to jerk himself through the aftershocks and Andrew moans weakly into his skin, keeping his fingers buried deep inside. 

He pulls his fingers out when Jesse relaxes back against the mattress, wiping them furtively against the sheets. His whole hand is still sticky with lube and the sheets are in dire need of a wash, but he doesn't want to move. He's hard again, his cock brushing against Jesse's hip when Jesse rolls over on his side, slinging one leg over Andrew's waist. 

They kiss, slow and thorough, tongues twining delicately between their mouths. Jesse buries one hand in Andrew's hair and slips the other one down to circle his cock. 

"You don't have to," Andrew whispers, even though he can't help thrusting into Jesse's hand. 

"Want to," Jesse answers, using his leg to pull Andrew even closer. "I really, really want to." 

Andrew pants into Jesse's mouth, hips twitching into his tight grip, and it's amazing, everything Andrew dreamed they could be, and more. 

"Is this good?" Jesse asks, flicking his wrist. "Do you like it like this?" 

"Yeah," Andrew groans. "It's… yeah." 

Jesse pulls back slightly to watch Andrew's face, eyes flickering down every so often to where his hand is wrapped around Andrew's dick. 

"You're beautiful," he murmurs, cheeks flushing as if he's embarrassed to admit it. 

Andrew flushes too, gasping when Jesse tightens his fingers. He feels beautiful, even though he's flushed and sticky and sweaty; he feels beautiful because Jesse is watching him as if he's precious – special – with big and unguarded eyes. 

Jesse leans closer, kissing him again, and Andrew makes noises into his mouth, burying his fingers into Jesse's sweaty curls. Pleasure coils in his gut, a slow delicious burn that spreads through his limbs, making him moan against Jesse's face. 

"Yeah," Jesse murmurs nonsensically. "Yeah, babe. That's… come on." 

"I…" Andrew comes before he can finish the sentence, even if it's short, spilling sticky and fast over Jesse's fingers. He groans deep in his throat, shuddering with the force of it, intense even though he already came once tonight. 

Jesse kisses him through it, keeping his hand curled around Andrew's dick even when it starts to soften, slippery and wilting against his palm. 

_I love you_ , Andrew thinks. He almost says it – because he's said it before, because he will say it again – but at the last instant, he clamps his mouth shut. He thinks this is one of those instances when it will mean _more_ after sex and he doesn't want to ruin this. 

They fall asleep tangled and sticky, glued together with sweat and come, breathing into each other's mouths. Andrew has never slept this close to someone before, not even Dan whom he dated for six months and thought that maybe he was in love with. He thinks it means something. 

He thinks it means _everything_. 

\--

Andrew wakes Jesse up before he leaves, shaking his shoulder lightly until Jesse's eyes blink open. Red rimmed and unfocused they are still the prettiest thing Andrew ever saw. 

"You shouldn't sleep with your contacts in," Andrew mumbles, smoothing his thumb along Jesse's cheekbone. 

Jesse blinks again, lips curling into a half smile. "I was kind of distracted," he says, voice rough with lack of use. 

Andrew smiles, keeping his hand curled around the side of Jesse's face. He wants to move in and kiss him, morning breath be damned, but he doesn't, keeping a foot of distance between their faces. 

When Andrew was twelve, his family spent a summer in New Jersey and he got to be friends with the most remarkable curly haired boy. They didn't keep in touch when Andrew's family moved back to England, but eight years later that boy walked into Andrew's apartment on the heels of his mother and wormed his way right back into Andrew's heart and Andrew's not planning on ever letting him go again. 

"I have to go," Andrew says, heart stuttering against his ribcage. "But before I leave I want to… I have this thing I want to say."

Jesse nods, a sharp jerk of his neck and he sucks his lower lip in between his teeth. 

_Four beer queer_ , Andrew thinks, but the beers wore off by now but Jesse's still here, still in Andrew's bed, still staring into Andrew's eyes with apprehension as if he thinks that Andrew's going to break his heart. 

"Jess…" He starts, trails off, worries at his lips and stares into Jesse's impossible eyes. He knows what he wants to say but not how to say it for Jesse's to really _get_ it. He takes a deep breath and decides to go for broke. "Jesse, I'm in love with you. Ridiculously, hopelessly, helplessly in love with you but I… I don't think I can do this anymore. I can't be your drunk experiment… or whatever it is I am to you right now… because I'm… I'm seriously contemplating ways to make you an alcoholic just so I can kiss you all the time and that's… that's not healthy."

Jesse's expression is impressively passive, eyes wide and mouth reddened by his teeth. He doesn't say anything. 

"And I'm not saying… I'll always be your best friend, Jess. I always want to be your best friend and I don't want you to feel bad if you don't want more than that because… because you shouldn't. But I… I don't think I can handle having this and not having this because I love you and I don't… I don't want to grow resentful or get angry with you for not… not feeling the same way. So I'm going to leave now and when I get back I'll still be your best friend and I'll always be there for you and… if you want… if you want more I want us to be completely sober the next time."

Jesse blinks, licking his lips. "Andrew…" he starts, but Andrew cuts him off with a sharp shake of the head. 

"I really have to go now," he says. "Just think about it, okay? And don't worry about it. That's an order."

Jesse lips curl into a smile and he crinkles his nose. "Yeah," he says. "I don't think I'm going to follow that order." 

Andrew smiles too and his heart feels a little lighter. "Of course not," he says, flicking Jesse's nose. "Just remember to eat and sleep and drink plenty of water too." 

Andrew inches back, easing himself off the bed. It physically hurts to break eye contact, but if he doesn't he'll want to stay in this moment forever. 

"Text me when you get there," Jesse says. "And I do mean when you get there, I don't care what time it is."

"I will," Andrew promises, lifting his hand in a vague wave. "See you."

"See you," Jesse echoes, but Andrew can tell he's already retreating into his head.


	4. Home Run

Normally, Andrew loves airports, but at 2am on a Sunday night they're a menace. The customs officers are grumpy, the baggage carousel too loud and everyone is half asleep and short of temper. He nearly gets socked in the eye by a guy shoving him out of the way to get to his bag and he almost trips over a small overtired child running around wailing at the top of its lungs while the mother chases after it. He's exhausted and achy and all he wants is to collapse face first into his bed and sleep until the world makes sense again. 

He doesn't want to wait forever for his bag to appear, he doesn't want to spend that time thinking about what things will be like with Jesse, he doesn't want to contemplate the fact that he might have his heart broken into tiny little pieces within the next few hours. All weekend he's been exchanging text messages with Jesse and had it been anyone else Andrew would have called them flirty, but it's Jesse and Andrew's not entirely sure he's been doing it on purpose. 

He almost misses his bag rolling past on the conveyor belt and has to chase after it, grabbing it just before it disappears again. He scrubs a tired hand over his eyes and heads for the exit, trying to not think about anything at all. 

\--

The airport proper is too loud and too bright, crowded despite the late (early?) hour and he squints longingly towards the exit for the taxis. He squares his shoulders and starts towards the elevators instead. 

"Andrew." 

He stops, craning his neck, half certain he imagined the familiar voice, but then he spots them. Justin inexplicably dressed in a three-piece suit, and Jesse in jeans and a hoodie, his favorite cap pressed down over his hair. Jesse lifts his hand in an uncertain wave and for a moment Andrew forgets how to breathe. 

"What are you doing here?" he asks and the question is meant for both of them but he can't stop staring at Jesse. 

"What does it look like we're doing?" Justin huffs. "We're picking you up from the airport because neurosis over here was absolutely certain you'd get yourself killed if we let you on the tube." 

"Don't call him that," Andrew says automatically, but he doesn't look away from Jesse's flushed face. 

Jesse fidgets but he gives Andrew a small smile from underneath the brim of his cap. "Hey," he says. 

"Hey," Andrew echoes smiling stupidly and they just stare at each other for a while. 

Justin groans and pulls Andrew's bag out of his hand. "You can stare at each other in the car," he points out. 

"Andrew likes looking at me," Jesse says, ducking his head so that his entire face is hidden by the brim of his cap, but he can't hide the pink tint to the tips of his ears. 

"Yeah," Andrew agrees, heart fluttering helplessly. "I really, really do." 

"It's like watching the courtship of middle-schoolers," Justin mutters. "And I know for a fact you're capable of having very loud athletic sex."

"It wasn't athletic," Jesse says and then his ears turn fire engine red. 

"You're a bad person," Andrew says, glaring at Justin who looks completely unrepentant. 

Justin shrugs. "I tell the truth as I see it."

"Can we go home now?" Jesse asks, voice low and hands stuffed deeply into his pockets. His entire posture screams misery and Andrew can't figure out what went wrong. He wants to reach out and touch, curl his fingers around Jesse's shoulder or put a hand at the small of his back, but Jesse looks so closed-off, so small, and Andrew doesn't want to embarrass him. 

Andrew glares at Justin again, and says: "Sure." 

\--

The car ride is tense. Jesse insists that Andrew ride shotgun and then takes the seat behind him as if to make sure Andrew can't look at him. Andrew can hear him though, fingers beating a nervous staccato against the door and he wants to say something, but everything he comes up with sounds horribly banal and trite even in his own head. 

"Do you know what we should do?" Justin asks, as he pulls up outside their apartment building a million silent minutes later. "We should get drunk." 

"NO," Andrew and Jesse say at the same time, loud enough to make Justin twitch. 

"Well, I'm sorry," Justin mutters. "It's not like I enjoy listening to you guys having sex." 

"You'll just have to learn how to deal with it," Jesse says and then he's out of the car, practically running up the front steps. 

Andrew blinks, pulse picking up speed. "Was that… Did he just…" 

Justin sighs. "Go after him you fool, and don't say I never did anything for you." 

Andrew tumbles out of the car, tripping over his own feet, while the front door falls closed behind Jesse. He's slow, after over ten hours spent on a plane, limbs stiff and stubborn, but his mind races fast enough to make up for it, going from elated to apprehensive and back again at breakneck speed. 

He catches up with Jesse at their landing, skidding to a stop to watch Jesse jiggle the stubborn security lock. 

"Hey," he says, breathless from the run. 

Jesse shakes his head quickly, the back of his neck flushed. "Don't…" he starts, but then he cuts himself off and doesn't say anything more. 

Andrew nods, biting down hard at his lower lip and staring at the rigid line of Jesse's back. 

"I can't do this," Jesse says, giving up on the lock in favor of leaning his forehead against the door. "I thought I could but I just… I can't."

Andrew's heart sinks but he nods again, even if Jesse can't see him. 

"I'm sorry," Jesse whispers and he sounds so broken that Andrew just wants to wrap him up in his arms and hold him until they both stop hurting. 

He steps closer, gently pushing Jesse out of the way to get the door open. "I'm sorry too," he murmurs, but Jesse won't even look at him and everything hurts. 

\--

Nothing is okay. Everything is tense and off-kilter and exhausting. They try to pretend that it's alright, but they fail so hard it's painful. When they accidentally slip back into their old routine it only takes a moment before one of them tenses up and it all falls apart and it's not fair because they're both trying so fucking _hard_ to make it work. 

"How can you live with all this tension?" Justin asks one morning after Jesse's gone off to class. 

Andrew shrugs and stares out the window. "I don't know," he answers. 

He hates himself for ruining everything. He hates himself for pushing Jesse too far and putting that tight hurt look on his face. He hates himself for the way he still _wants_ Jesse, even when he's hurting, even when he looks as if he's been to hell and back. He hates that he doesn't know how to _fix_ this.

Justin's silent for a moment, stirring sugar into his coffee. "I'm sorry," he says eventually. "If it was something I did." 

Andrew looks at him, _really_ looks at him for the first time in a week and realizes that Justin looks tired too, eyes puffy and mouth drawn. 

"It wasn't your fault," he says.

Justin nods, looking away. "It's just… I'm really rooting for you guys. You're…" He swallows, cheeks tinted pink. "You're my best friends." 

"It'll be okay," Andrew says, but it sounds hollow even to his own ears. "We'll figure it out." 

Justin nods again and offers up a half-hearted smile. Andrew looks down on his cup, staring into the dark depths of his coffee and hoping with his entire being that he's right —that somehow it will all be okay again. 

\--

Andrew can't sleep. He's lying in bed with the window open to let in the slight breeze, staring blindly up at the ceiling. Outside a car honks its horn and a motorcycle roars past, engine growling, but inside everything is quiet. He wonders if Jesse's sleeping or if he's awake too, sprawled on his bed in a simile of Andrew's position, or curled into a tight ball of anxiety like he does sometimes when the world overwhelms him. If Jesse's awake Andrew hopes that he's sprawling; he never wanted to be another burden on Jesse's shoulders, doesn't know what to do about the fact that he is. 

He sighs and rolls out of bed. He pauses for a moment outside Jesse's door, hand poised to knock, but then he thinks better of it and pads down to the kitchen. He grabs a glass from the cupboard and pours himself some juice, drinking it with his hip cocked against the counter. Somewhere in the building a door slams, and the outdated pipes whine when someone runs the tap. Andrew takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He misses Jesse so much his stomach aches with it. 

He pours himself another glass of juice and drinks it slowly, goose bumps rising along his arms with the chill of it. The counter digs into his hip, cold and sharp, and he curls his toes against the worn throw rug covering the floor. 

"I'm okay," he says, voice too loud in the eerie silence. "I'm fine."

Easy to say, harder to be, but he swears to himself that he'll try harder from now on. He'll smile brighter and laugh louder and eventually it will stop being a charade. It's his mess and he's the one who has to fix it because no one else will. 

\--

He nearly walks right into Jesse on the way back to his room, a pale shadow pressed up against the wall, as if he hoped that Andrew would walk right past him. 

"Sorry," Jesse murmurs, quick and rough, when Andrew sidesteps to avoid scuffing his toes. "I didn't hear you." 

"It's okay," Andrew says, just as quickly, balling his hands into fists at his sides. 

Neither of them moves; the air between them thickening with tension until Andrew can't even breathe. He wants to do something, say something, _anything_ , to make it all okay, but what is there to say, really, that wouldn't be a bold-faced lie. 

"First relationships don't last," Jesse says suddenly, words coming out a quick tumble. "You don't… you don't just stumble across the one who's perfect for you first thing. Life doesn't work that way." 

Andrew inhales slowly, exhales, tries to read Jesse's face in the dark. "I don't understand," he says. 

"You _have_ to," Jesse says desperately. "You have to understand. It's not… it's not _you_. It was never you. It's… I can't…" 

Jesse sucks in a shaky breath. "You had Dan," he says. "And you were happy and he made you smile but then… then… you didn't have Dan and you were sad all the time and that's… we can't do that because you have to… I… _Fuck._ "

Andrew wants to reach out, he wants to reach out so much, but he keeps his hands balled at his sides waiting for Jesse to finish. 

"You deserve better," Jesse says, surer now, as if it's final, as if it's an irrevocable truth. "You deserve someone better than me." 

"Bullshit," Andrew explodes. "That's bullshit and you know it." 

"If we just keep breathing," Jesse whispers. "If we just keep breathing and pretend it never happened then eventually we'll be okay and we'll still be friends and I can... I can still have you, a little piece of you, whatever piece you're willing to give, and it will be enough." 

Andrew didn't think it was possible for his heart to break any further, but it's as if Jesse stomped on the pieces and this time it doesn't break for Andrew.

"Jesse," he says, voice rough. "Jess…" 

"You never see Dan. You never talk about him. It's like… It's like he was never a part of your life and I can't… I can't… I already lost you once." 

Andrew doesn't even try to stop himself from reaching out this time, curling his hands around Jesse's trembling arms and pulling him into a hug. "I thought about you every day for eight years," he murmurs. "Every single day and I would have called or written or sent a fucking smoke signal if I'd known you remembered me too."

Jesse trembles so hard Andrew imagines he can hear his bones rattle. "I'm so in love with you," Jesse chokes out. "Andrew… I'm so… _so_ in love with you."

Jesse's fingers digs into Andrew's skin and he breathes, hot and uneven, against Andrew's neck. Andrew moves his hands to cradle the wings of Jesse's shoulder blades and leans back against the wall. His heart soars, pulse fluttering like the wings of a humming bird, and he presses a kiss to Jesse's sweaty temple. 

"I love you too, Jess, you know that," he murmurs. "We'll figure it out, okay?" 

"I wanted to make a grand gesture," Jesse whispers, still trembling. "Emma said I had to. So I coerced Justin into picking you up from the airport and I really meant to say something but… I freaked out and I fucked up and then everything hurt and I wasn't… I wasn't going to let myself do this... I…" 

He trails off, gasping against Andrew's collarbone as if he's run a mile and not just crossed the hall. 

"I'm not… this is not…" He stops and sucks in a deep breath. "I just want to be with you," he lets out with the exhale, words bleeding together. 

Andrew rests his cheek against Jesse's temple and pretends that his eyes aren't watering. "That's good," he croaks. "Because that's what I want to." 

Jesse worms his hands in under Andrew's worn t-shirt, touching the skin at the small of his back, he's not shaking quite as hard. 

"I'm probably a horrible boyfriend," he whispers. 

"That's okay," Andrew murmurs, smiling so wide his face hurts. 

"No it isn't," Jesse says, annoyed. 

Andrew laughs and hugs him tighter. "I don't think it's possible for you to be a horrible anything," he says. 

Jesse makes a noise as if he doesn't agree but he doesn't argue, staying pressed up to Andrew's front with his face buried against Andrew's shoulder. 

"I really have to pee," he mutters after a moment and Andrew can't help the way he completely breaks down, laughing so hard he cries. 

"It's not funny," Jesse says petulantly, but Andrew's eyes are accustomed enough to the dark that he can see Jesse's smile when he pulls back. 

"I'm sorry," Andrew gasps. "Just… never change, okay?" 

Jesse snorts, reaching out to touch Andrew's hair. "I would if I knew how," he says wistfully. "But I find it… uhm… terribly reassuring that you… uh… like me despite me being… uh… me." 

"Not despite," Andrew says sternly, touching Jesse's face. " _Because._ "

"I… uh… yeah." 

Andrew can't see Jesse's face well enough to tell but he thinks that Jesse's blushing and he's gnawing on his lower lip in a way that looks more pleased than nervous. 

"Go to the bathroom," Andrew says. "I'm not going anywhere." 

"Yeah, okay. It might… yeah." 

Andrew gets a glimpse of Jesse's face when the bathroom light turns on and he's definitely blushing. The door snicks closed and Andrew sinks back against the wall, filling his lungs to the brim with air for what feels like the first time in weeks. It only takes a moment for the door to open again and Jesse to peer out at him. 

"I can't pee when I know you're just outside the door," he says. 

Andrew wants to kiss him so much it physically hurts, but he just smiles. "I'll be in my room," he says. "And you are invited." 

Jesse scrunches his face up. "Yeah… so I'll have a cold shower and then pee," he mutters. "It might take a while." 

Andrew laughs all the way to his room and then he flops down on the bed and grins up at the ceiling because it's impossible not to. It's weird to think that less than an hour ago he was trying to psyche himself into being okay with not having Jesse and now Jesse is his… boyfriend. He smiles even harder and feels a bit like a dork but it's okay because he's pretty sure Jesse likes him anyway. 

He fumbles for the bedside light when he hears the bathroom door open and flicks it on the moment Jesse steps through the door. Jesse stops, blinking uncertainly, and makes a wry face. 

"I forgot," he mutters. 

"Forgot what?"

"That you're the lights on kind of guy." 

Andrew laughs and knots his hands under his head. "Well, we already established how much I like looking at you." 

Jesse flushes and pushes the door closed behind him, hands fluttering at his sides as he walks over to the bed. Andrew smiles up at him, patting the open space on the sheets. 

"Come and cuddle with me," he says. 

"Just cuddle?" Jesse asks, gingerly sitting down on the edge of the bed. 

"Anything you want," Andrew murmurs, reaching out to touch the small of Jesse's back. 

"Okay." Jesse's silent for a moment. "I want you to… uh… fuck me." 

He says it fast, words almost tripping over each other and Andrew narrows his eyes even while a surge of want spikes through his stomach. 

"Look at me, Jess," he says. 

Jesse shakes his head but after a moment he lies down and rolls over on his side to face Andrew. His cheeks are pink and his bottom lip stuck between his teeth, Andrew reaches out to touch the sharp edge of his cheekbone, curling his fingers around the side of Jesse's face. 

"We can do anything you want," Andrew says. "But I don't want you to ask for something because it's what you think _I_ want." 

Jesse doesn't look at him, eyes fixed somewhere just above Andrew's head. "It's not…" He cuts himself off, eyes flittering down to Andrew's face. "I want… I want that. I… I want you to… I do." 

"Okay," Andrew says, breathless all of a sudden. "Okay." 

He leans forward, brushing his lips over Jesse's before pulling back again to watch his face. Jesse follows, pressing their lips together again and fisting his hands into the front of Andrew's shirt. It starts out easy but turns hungry within moments, noses bumping and teeth knocking as they struggle to get closer. 

Andrew's panting when he pulls back to get Jesse's shirt over his head, lips already buzzing from Jesse's slight stubble. 

"God, you're gorgeous," he breathes, sitting back on his haunches to just stare at Jesse, spread out and half naked in his bed. 

"I wish you wouldn't do that," Jesse groans, throwing an arm over his eyes while his flush extends down to his breastbone. 

Jesse's chest rises and falls with his rapid breaths and his boxers are quite obviously tented in the front. Andrew licks his lips, curling his hands around Jesse's thighs and pulling his legs further apart. 

"Can I take your boxers off?" Andrew asks, sliding his fingers in under the edges of the legs, stroking his fingertips over Jesse's silky skin. 

Jesse swallows, licking his lips. "Only if you… too." 

Andrew smiles and shrugs out of his shirt, dropping it on the floor before he wriggles out of his pajama pants in a way that is probably terribly unsexy but Jesse doesn't seem to mind, peeking out from under his arm to watch Andrew undress. 

"You're…" Jesse licks his lips. "Amazing. You look amazing." 

He sounds so earnest that Andrew has to kiss him which of course sets them off again, sharing drawn out hungry kisses with their legs tangled and hands touching anywhere they can reach. Andrew slides his hand into Jesse's loose boxers, cupping his ass, and Jesse groans deep in his throat, hips stuttering against Andrew's. 

"Please," he whispers and it's 2am on a Tuesday night and they've waited long enough. 

\--

Andrew is nervous, fingers trembling as he slides them in between Jesse's cheeks. He wants, so much, to do this right and this time he doesn't have the comfort of alcohol to lean back against. Jesse shivers when Andrew's fingers find their target, rubbing slow and slick over tight crinkled skin. He has one arm thrown over his eyes again and a hectic flush stains his cheeks, but when Andrew pauses, biting down on his lower lip, Jesse lifts his arm to give him a pointed look. 

"I'm not made of glass," he says. 

"I know," Andrew huffs out. "It's just… I want to do this right." 

"Well…" Jesse smiles. "You are. A little slowly, but you're doing alright." 

Andrew laughs and kisses him and slides one of his fingers into him at the same time, which is quite a feat and also makes Jesse gasp into his mouth. 

"How's that for slow?" he asks, crooking his finger. 

Jesse only answer is a moan. Andrew thinks it's the best answer ever. 

\--

By the time Andrew works three fingers into Jesse everything is sticky slick with lube and sweat and he's so hard he thinks he might die. Jesse is coming apart at the seams writhing against the soiled sheets with his hands balled into fists and his lips bitten raw. 

"Fuck," he gasps. "Come _on_." 

"Yeah," Andrew breathes, moving his fingers faster, _harder_. "Jess…"

Jesse arches off the bed another desperate moan escaping his lips. "Andrew," he pants when his muscles relaxes. "You have to… please… _now_." 

Andrew kisses him, messy-slick and breathless, fumbling around the bed for the condoms. "I'm not gonna last ten seconds," he warns. 

"That's okay," Jesse slurs. "Just wanna feel you." 

Andrew wishes he was less turned on, less desperate, because he wants to savor every second of this, but there's just no way he's going to last with Jesse spread out and eager and his own pulse throbbing like thunder in his ears. 

He pulls his fingers out and fumbles with the condom, biting back a groan when Jesse reaches down to help him. 

"Fuck," he breathes, hips stuttering forward. "You're not helping."

Jesse just smiles, dreamy like, and doesn't pull his hands away. The lube gets everywhere again, slippery and viscous; it trickles down Andrew's thighs and drips down on Jesse, who is still smiling that dreamy smile, thighs spread wide and cock hard against his stomach. 

"Yeah," he whispers, when Andrew crawls forward, moving on top of him. " _Finally._ " 

Andrew chuckles and kisses him and curls his hand hard around the base of his dick. "Tell me if I hurt you," he murmurs. 

"Mmhmm," Jesse agrees, easily lifting his legs to wrap around Andrew's back. "Love you." 

Andrew moans and slowly, as slowly as he possibly can, pushes forward. They both groan when he pushes past the initial resistance and he pauses, holding on to his control with all of his might. 

"Okay?" he breathes. 

"Fuck, yeah…" Jesse answers, opening his eyes wide to stare up at Andrew's face. 

Andrew can tell that it hurts, at least a little bit, by the way Jesse's fingers dig into his back and his breath hitches, but there's no hesitation in Jesse's darkened eyes, just an infinite humbling _trust_ that Andrew doesn't know how to handle. 

They keep eye contact until Andrew bottoms out, holding still with trembling thighs and bated breath. Jesse smiles again, sliding his hands up to touch Andrew's hair. 

"You're _inside_ me," he whispers, reverent. 

Andrew swallows thickly and rocks forward, forcing himself to thrust slow and steady. 

"Oh," Jesse gasps. "Oh… _Andrew…_ " 

There's no holding back after that, he doesn't even try and the way Jesse meets him thrust for thrust, arching his back and digging his heels into Andrew's skin, says he's okay with that. 

"Love you," Andrew breathes, hoarse and wild. "God, Jess… I love you." 

It's sappy and stupid and you shouldn't say it during sex but he can't _help_ it. It wells up inside, huge and amazing, and he wants to tell Jesse every minute of every day and he wants to stay in this moment forever. 

He lets himself get lost in Jesse, in the moment, in the harsh breaths shared between their open mouths. Somehow he manages to get a hand between them and curl it around Jesse's cock, fisting him without the slightest bit of coordination or rhythm in a messy counterpoint to the erratic beat of his hips. 

Jesse's breath hitches on every exhale, coming out it whines and whimpers. "Yes, yes, oh, yes, yes. _Oh_." 

He digs furrows into Andrew's back and bites at Andrew's lips and Andrew is so close he can barely hold back. 

"I'm gonna…" he gasps and that's all the incentive Jesse needs, arching up and spilling slickly over Andrew's fingers, heels digging hard into Andrew's back. 

Andrew follows seconds later, coming so hard he nearly blacks out. He's pretty sure he screams, or cries, or something like that, hips stuttering against Jesse's ass, until he collapses forward, squishing Jesse to the bed. 

"Mmmrgh," Jesse says, but he wraps his arms hard around Andrew's heaving shoulders, holding him close. 

"I love you," Andrew breathes. "Stupidly." 

"Is that why you're trying to kill me?" Jesse asks. 

"Mmhmm," Andrew agrees, nuzzling the underside of Jesse's jaw. "Exactly." 

Somehow he remembers how to string his limbs together and manages to push up on his elbows, taking some of the weight of Jesse's chest. Jesse has his lower lip captured between his teeth but he still smiles. It's the most adorable thing Andrew’s ever seen. 

"Hey." Andrew rubs their noses together and smiles against Jesse's lips. "You okay?" 

"You're still inside of me," Jesse says, but he sounds more wondrous than grossed out. 

"Yeah," Andrew says, kissing the corner of his mouth. "Feel bad?" 

"No, just… different. Good… Could we do it again like this?" 

Andrew groans, biting lightly at Jesse's jaw line. "We sure could try," he mutters. "But I'd still have to pull out and change the condom." 

"Okay," Jesse sighs, walking his fingers up Andrew's back. "If you must." 

Jesse winces when Andrew shifts so that his softened dick slips out of Jesse's body. 

"Okay?" Andrew asks, as he removes the condom and ties it up, dropping it into the trashcan beside the bed. 

"Yeah." Jesse frowns. "But I kinda… miss you?" 

Andrew laughs and crawls up Jesse’s body to kiss his adorable silly mouth. "If you're not too sore I'll fuck you in the morning," he promises. 

"I'd like that," Jesse says seriously and Andrew laughs again. 

Andrew gets a washcloth from the bathroom to clean them off before they find a relatively clean corner of the sheets to curl up on. Jesse is the clingiest big spoon there ever was but Andrew can't say he minds the octopus-embrace, or Jesse's soft breath stirring the fine hairs at his nape. 

"I love you," Andrew murmurs, touching the arm Jesse has wrapped around his waist. "Please be here tomorrow morning." 

"I will," Jesse promises and he sounds like he really means in, sated and secure. 

Andrew's almost asleep when Jesse speaks again. 

"So I was thinking… can I adopt a cat? There's a shelter down the street and… uh… I'd really like to have a cat. It can… it can be our cat. Like a child. But a cat and uh… not so demanding and Justin's not allergic… I asked." 

Andrew isn't sure if he wants to laugh or cry, or maybe a little bit of both. "Do I even want to know how long you've wanted a cat?" he asks. 

"Probably not," Jesse admits, pressing his face into Andrew's back. "This just seemed like a good time to ask." 

Andrew shakes his head against the pillows and smiles helplessly into the darkness. "Yeah, Jess," he murmurs. "We can get a cat." 

He can feel the curve of Jesse's smile against his back and the warm press of Jesse's palm against his chest. It feels a lot like forever. 

**-The End-**

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [all my bases are belong to you [podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092761) by [Rhea314 (Rhea)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhea/pseuds/Rhea314)




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